A/N: All in present
Chapter 6: Distance
Luka doodles idly along the edge of her paper and the math equations and angles slip her mind, whispering out the classroom like the air through the open window. It is a fair sixty-five degrees out, and after a bitterly cold yet practically snowless winter it feels like paradise. She glances once at the unfinished design on her paper on her desk and then at the clock, deciding that she can spare a few moments to let her thoughts wander.
Her pencil spins along the unused graph space on the margin creating swirls and haphazard smiley faces. She was never an extremely artistic girl, that creative aspect of design typically fell into her friend's range – busily sketching an intricate concept of a car at the neighboring table -, and the doodles look no more impressive than a kindergarten finger painting. All the same, there is a certain kind of relaxation in simply letting your pencil drag across a page.
She pulls herself back together and finishes the assignment right as the bell rings. Passing in the paper and stowing away her pencil, her hand brushes against her phone and pulls it out, an automatic habit that she's been doing more and more often nowadays. Especially since that message yesterday morning.
I miss you.
She had typed back, called back, but never gotten ahold of him. She supposes that him being miles away in an important city in some random country would put him in a different time zone, but even so, unless he has no coverage wherever he is the messages should be getting through. Is he just not responding?
She lets out a sigh as she flips open the phone, noting that she has an alert from the online music shop she subscribed to. After entering her favorite albums and artists, the website had set itself up to notify her anytime a song was released that may catch her attention. She reads the message slowly, leaning against the wall in the hallway. A small smile spreads across her face at the announcement at the bottom and she opens up the internet browser, typing it in.
Gakupo Kamui: World's Crying
She plops herself down on a sofa in a sitting area as the file loads, making a new album cover appear in her gallery. The bar fills up and the song plays as she puts in the earphones, closing her eyes and listening to heavy drums and base roll out the speakers.
Do the days I pictured before I reached my destination exist anymore?
There is no mask capable of hiding a heart that's simply ugly
Moments are repeated over and over
Scrambling, fighting
Even the lament that was concealed
Is so distant it goes unheard
Unaware of that crying voice flowing out in silence
Things that have broken down, this world that has been broken
Our past selves, from the times we spent laughing
Are gone beyond distant memories
Like vanishing illusions
Now, with hands so sullied and eyes that have ended up dry
Can I bring happiness to anyone?
The tune continues in its same forceful and wretched dynamic, pounding against Luka's eardrums and causing a painful tightening in her chest. If he puts his life into his music, then this song, this strange pain, is his life right now.
She yanks the earbuds out and quickly brings up the contacts screen. Her phone is pressed against her ear, ringing, ringing, but again no answer. She tries again, ringing, ringing; voicemail. The beep sounds.
Her mind goes blank. What was she calling him to say? What had she ever been calling him to say? Where are you? What have you been doing? I'm worried?
"Gakupo?" her voice sounds tiny in the emptying hallway. She'll be late to her next class, but she doesn't care. She clears her throat, speaking up. "It's Luka. I just…I can't seem to get ahold of you." Her eyes squeeze shut and she clamps her mouth closed, surprised at the onslaught of emotions that surge up at just saying his name and knowing that at some point he'll hear it. "Contact me tonight, and don't forget." Her voice trails off. The hallways are empty.
"I miss you."
She snaps the phone shut.
The lights are dim in Luka's dorm as she pulls the sofa out to create her bed. After locking the door and drawing the blinds she sits down on it, pushing her freshly washed locks over one shoulder. She grabs a textbook, half looking through it, half listening – hopefully not in vain.
The algorithms all shift together on the page and she finds herself just sitting there, not particularly thinking or doing anything, barely breathing. Her neighbors underneath her – usually sending blasting music and sounds she'd rather not hear upwards – are surprisingly quiet, and the only thing she can hear is the soft patter of pigeons across the roof as they crawl to their nests in the eaves.
Her eyes close, heavy, and she sets the book aside to lean back on the pillows. Breathing in deeply she turns to turn off the side lamp and plunge the room into darkness, when her phone dings as if it had been waiting for her to give up before delivering the message.
She grabs it with trembling fingers and flips it open, reading the words once to see them, twice to understand them.
Today, 11:02 PM, From: GK
We're playing Marco-Polo. With cell phones.
A small bubble of laughter bursts from her mouth, surprising her, and causing her to laugh again at the ridiculousness of the action. It's just a text. Just a text.
Today, 11:04 PM, To: GK
Very true. Now that I've caught you, can you talk?
She waits a few moments for the reply to come back.
Today, 11:05 PM, From: GK
No. I think we should just send random pictures back and forth.
Attached at the bottom is a photograph of cat dressed up as a frog. Luka looks at it quizzically.
Today, 11:07, To: GK
Because that would obviously be productive. You did not get another cat. I swear your old one died from gratuitous amounts of affection/stress.
Today, 11:08, From: GK
Mr. Mittens loved me, you know he did. And what is not productive about cat-frogs? L
Luka shakes her head and smiles faintly as the conversation continues, switching back and forth between pets, music, and strange foreign food. As the familiar and strangely comforting absurdity that is Gakupo pushes its way out through texts and emoticons Luka feels a sort of clench in the center of her stomach, half pleasant warmth, half painful longing. He's so familiar, but stifled through the uniformity of letters on a screen. It would be better if he was there, if she could hear him, feel him…
But that won't happen.
Today, 11:34, From: GK
Luuuuuka? Where'd you go?
She stares down at the text in surprise, noting that she had been lost in thought for a while now. Her fingers dance across the keys, desperate to reassure him that she's there before he gives up.
Today, 11:34, To: GK
Ah, sorry. I zoned out
Today, 11:35, From: GK
Zoned out? Wait a second, it's almost midnight over there!
Today, 11:36, To: GK
Yes?
Today, 11:37, From: GK
Um, GO TO SLEEP.
Her mouth opens slightly, confused at his reaction and miffed at the idea of ending the conversation.
Today, 11:39, To: GK
Since when do you care about sleep?
The response is quick.
Today, 11:40, From: GK
I don't get to sleep. I'm undead. Besides, it makes you feel all sick and weird if you don't get it.
Just go to sleep.
She sighs and rereads the text again, trying to determine if she's only imagining the warmth she finds in the last words. She types slowly back, thinking, and moving her eyes deliberately across the letters.
Today, 11:42, To: GK
Alright, I suppose I don't want to join you in your zombieness.
The next words don't come so easily. She swallows, biting her lip, writing down the message and sending it off.
Thank you for remembering.
She holds her breath as the last message comes, short but carrying the force of a steamroller.
Making the same mistake twice is stupid. I'll see you around.
What feels like a chuckle rises in her throat, but when it comes out, she chokes on it, creating a muffled sob that echoes around the tiny room. Glancing around her, she can recall moments spent in here, moments spent together, and other moments, ones that weren't so happy.
Silences,
Waiting,
Yelling.
A/N: Great, I've got writer's block again. Of course over a long weekend when I actually have time to write. That's just fantastic. Well, whatever. I'll keep shooting out chapters, but it'll be painful. Pain...
I have a story to tell you! So yesterday my internet wasn't working and I could only listen to Vocaloid music I already had downloaded onto my computer. Well, this was all stuff I hadn't heard in a really long time and I fell in love with it all over again. You can guess where that went. Yup, ideas galore. I have so many great ideas for upcoming fics that I don't know which one to do next! Over the next couple of days I'm going to put up basic ideas I have for the stories on my profile and I want you all to vote for the one you want. Some are based off of songs, others just my imagination. Whatever has the most votes will be the one I write after this is finished!